


Smile Please

by CutesyMe



Series: MysticMessengerWeek [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CutesyMe/pseuds/CutesyMe
Summary: He wasn’t that old, his body still worked perfectly, and he still looked good. He did, didn’t he? Zen rushed to the big mirror in the hallway and stared at himself, poked his cheeks with his fingers, and pulled at them. His hair was still healthy. Maybe he needed to cut it?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaah, Mystic Messnger Week started and I am doing fine so far. This is a little short, little angsty, and little fluffy. Hope you enjoy reading.
> 
> Prompt: smile

“Yeah. Thanks a lot. Good bye.”

Zen hung up and let his phone fall on the bed. He sat there for a moment, unable to do anything besides stare at the wall and breathe. It was the third time now. The third role in a row that he didn’t get. How was that possible? He just didn’t know what was wrong. He worked out, he quit smoking and barely drank beer anymore, he trained everyday, and gave his all during rehearsals.

He took a shaky breath, shaky hands rubbing over his face. Irritation was starting to settle in and Zen didn’t want that, didn’t want to lose his composure. He stretched his neck in hope of calming down. When that didn’t work, he got up and paced in his room.

He wasn’t that old, his body still worked perfectly, and he still looked good. He did, didn’t he? Zen rushed to the big mirror in the hallway and stared at himself, poked his cheeks with his fingers, and pulled at them. His hair was still healthy. Maybe he needed to cut it?

He glided his hands along his throat, his chest that was still firm. More workout? More muscles?

Zen didn’t know.

He smiled and analyzed it in the mirror. Then he put off his shirt, holding it in his hands and stared at his naked torso. It still looked like it always did. Zen looked like he always did. Was that the problem? Was it his white hair? He could change it. He could all change it.

Zen was torn out of his thoughts by the unlocking noises of the front door and then you were already standing there. Zen clenched his shirt into his fists so they would stop shaking, glad that they were hidden with it. He couldn’t speak. You would immediately notice that something wasn’t right.

You halted, surprised, when you saw Zen in the hallway, and whistled. “Quite the sight to walk in to,” you said with raised eyebrows.

You closed the door and then looked at Zen. Your gaze softened instantly and you let your purse fall to the ground. You took the three steps towards Zen, stopped in front of him, and tenderly cupped his cheeks.

“I’m home,” you whispered, stood on your tiptoes, pulled Zen down softly, and pressed your lips to his forehead.

Zen released a shaky breath, smiled, and croaked out. “Welcome home.”

You smiled back when you saw Zen’s smile, and slowly helped Zen put on his shirt again. Taking his hand, you lead him into the living room. Both of you settled on the couch, Zen with his head resting on your chest, and you enveloping him in your arms.

You remained like this for a while, giving Zen time to relax while you let one hand rub up and down his back, and with the other went through his hair. Zen hid his face in your chest, taking a deep breath, and sighed.

“Zen, what’s wrong?” you asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Zen knew that you knew about the phone call. He had been waiting for it since days and you had to calm him down multiple times.

“I didn’t get the role.” His voice came out muffled.

You tightened your grip around Zen and said. “You’ll get the next one.”

Zen untangled himself from the hug and sat up. “I didn’t get three roles in a row. I didn’t go to play in any play for weeks.”

You put an arm around his shoulders, hoping he will accept the touch. “I know, but don’t most actors have times like those? You got rejected before but then got roles again.”

“But why am I not getting any roles anymore? Is it my acting? My looks? What is it?”

“Zen. Don’t go there. You’re beautiful and your acting is amazing. Sometimes just like you reject roles because you think they don’t fit you, just like that the author of that play might not see you in their roles. That doesn’t mean that you can’t act. It just proves that every human is an individual.”

Zen was quiet for a while, looking at his shaking hands. You carded your fingers through his hair and pressed your lips to his shoulder. You pressed another kiss to the bare skin of his neck and whispered. “You know who looks better than Zen?”

Zen looked at you with teary, and you could see all the fear in them.

“A smiling Zen.”

Zen snorted and started chuckling, the chuckles soon turning to laughter and the tears rolling down his cheeks. You smiled at him, letting out a squeal when Zen suddenly hugged you. He pressed his forehead to yours and you wiped away his tears.

“I love you,” he cooed and leaned into your hand.

“I love you too. Sad Zenny as much as smiley Zenny.”

Zen chuckled again and shook his head, pressing his lips to yours.

**Author's Note:**

> Weel then, hope you liked it. See you tomorrow hopefully.
> 
> tumblr: @mitaki


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